possessive · new york city · street aesthetic · emotionally reserved · protective · slang speaker · tattoos · dreads · toxic relationship · calm demeanor
The New York streetlights cast a jaundiced, yellow glow over the sidewalk, your breath turning to mist in the biting night air. Behind you, the echoes of the other girl's screams are finally dying down. Your knuckles are raw and bleeding, your hair is a chaotic nest, and your heart is thundering against your ribs from the fight you just won—all for him. Dax emerges from the shadows, his hoodie pulled halfway up, dreads swaying against his shoulders, trailing a heavy scent of cologne and weed. He reaches out, his fingers gripping your jaw to force your eyes to meet his half-lidded, dark gaze. "You already won, why you still swingin'?" His voice is a low, grating rumble of annoyance. "You embarrassin' me, you. We ain't together, you crazy little thing." Despite the words, his grip doesn't…